That was true. Auberge could not have bullied Pomeroy, Denis, and Grenville to turn out half of London to search for Gabriella. A few patrollers might have looked, found nothing, and sent Auberge home.
'I had resources,' I said.
'For which I am forever grateful,' Gabriella answered, haughty as a duchess, I noted with amusement. 'May I begin my visits soon?'
'In September,' I said. 'I will take you to Lady Aline Carrington's in Hampshire. We will have a fine time.'
Gabriella relaxed her hauteur and gave me an impish grin as good as Black Nancy's. 'Will there be games and country dances? I have read much in the newspapers about games and country dances at English house parties.'
'Lady Aline is at the forefront of society,' I assured her. 'I am certain she will provide exquisite entertainment.'
Gabriella clasped her hands. 'I will be most happy to go, then.'
I felt a sudden stab of trepidation. I wanted to know and cherish my daughter again, but I realized that I had no idea how to be a father.
Denis, who had watched the exchange with no flicker of warmth, gathered his papers. 'I will leave documents for Mrs. Lacey to sign and dispatch to me.' He rose, tucked the rest of the papers under his arm, took up his walking stick, and bowed coolly. 'I bid you good day.'
I walked him to the door of the parlor, politely opening it for him. 'I meant what I said. Every ha'penny. You will see it again.'
Denis gave me a wintry smile. 'There are a few problems that have come to my attention about which I wish to consult with you. You will be just the man to find the answers.'
'I do not work for you,' I reminded him.
His look turned wise. 'Wait and hear the problems first,' he said. 'And then decide. Good day, Captain.'
He was gone, settling his hat and climbing into the elegant carriage that waited for him in the summer mist.
Auberge asked me to stay and speak with him, but Carlotta wanted to take Gabriella upstairs again, ready to hide her away once more.
'Thank you, Gabriel,' Carlotta said stiffly as we parted at the foot of the stairs.
I lifted her hand, though she did not offer it, and pressed a brief kiss to it. She had been my first love; I had kissed the dainty fingers so long ago. 'Be well, Carlotta.'
She looked startled, then swiftly inclined her head and started up the stairs. Gabriella allowed me to kiss her cheek, although she still behaved as though I were merely a kind stranger. Tears filled my eyes as she gracefully caught up to her mother and slipped her arm about the older woman's waist.
Auberge joined me in watching them. 'I cannot repay you for what you have done,' he said. 'You have my deepest obligation.'
I remained gazing up the stairs after Carlotta and Gabriella had gone. 'I don't know, Auberge. I cannot help feeling that Gabriella would not have been in danger at all if not for me.'
'No, Captain. I, too, feel great guilt, but the one who should bear it is Payne. Were he not such a beast, Gabriella would have gone without incident to your rooms and been comforted by you. We might have had a merry argument, but no more.'
'My reason tells me this,' I said. 'Still I go over it and over it, wondering what would have happened if I had said the right things or done things differently.'
'Whatever we feel, I am forever in your debt for restoring her to us.' He paused. 'And for not taking her away again.'
I met his gaze. 'She loves you. You are her family.'
'You have the law,' he said.
'The law is not everything.'
Auberge pressed his lips together and nodded, as though afraid that if he went on in this vein, he'd lose what he'd gained. 'You will take care of her when she is here?'
'Oh, yes,' I answered fervently. 'You can be assured, I will watch her every move.'
We stood awkwardly a moment, two men who were, in truth, rivals, and whose bond over a common problem had come to an end.
'Carlotta finally told me,' he said after a time, 'the reason she left you to stay with me in France. I asked her quite closely about it last night.'
I lifted a brow. 'And what did she say?'
Auberge slid into French, as though unable to keep up his halting English. 'That when you were in France with her, she'd had a letter from her father. He wrote that he would dissolve her marriage to you and drag her home to marry the man to whom he'd tried to betroth her before. Her father was sore in need of money, as I said, and you had little. He convinced her, in her naivete, that he could do such a thing. Carlotta said that she had no idea until now that divorce and annulment were such difficult things to obtain. You were ready to return to England, and she feared that if she came back here, her father would force her into the marriage she'd run to India to escape.'
'Good Lord. The little fool. Why did she never tell me of this?'
Auberge shrugged. 'She was young, she was afraid, and as we agreed, Carlotta is not one to think things through. She simply acts. She and I had grown to know each other, and I admit, I flirted with her and quite fell in love with her. So, when she came to me in trouble, I had no compunction against taking her away. For that, I am sorry.'
'Dear God.' I exhaled. 'Poor Carlotta. She must have been terrified. And she did not feel that she could come to me.' The knowledge hurt, even now. 'But you made her happy, Auberge. She fled with you into safety, and you loved her.'
Auberge nodded quietly. 'We have been very happy.'
'And she would not have been happy with me.' I knew this to be true. 'Not even in the absence of her father's threats, which were empty. She would never have had what she has with you.'
Auberge sent me a warm smile. 'You are a good man, Captain.'
'No, I am not.' I studied him for a time. 'I have always wanted to hate you. But I have to admit that you are a good man in your own right.' I shook his hand once more, deciding to begin my life again, free of the past. 'Be well.'
' Au revoir, ' he said.
I bowed and departed, not returning his wish.
Two weeks later, a hired coach let me off before a spreading, graceful house, approached by a mile-long drive that wound beneath powerful and ancient oaks. The house, golden brick in the middle of Oxfordshire, welcomed me with promise.
A tall butler met me at the front door, bowed to me, asked how my journey was, and bade two footmen in full livery take my valise to my room.
'Her ladyship is in the gardens,' he said. 'She directed me to lead you there once you had arrived. If you need to refresh yourself, I can have a footman take you upstairs.'
'No, thank you,' I said. Lady Breckenridge had departed London a week ago, and I had missed her more than I liked to admit. 'I will visit the gardens.'
'Very good, sir.'
The butler led me into a wide echoing hall, cool in the summer heat. Gilded frescos graced the ceiling, and a windowed rotunda far above let in soft light.
At the end of the hall, French doors led to a three-stepped terrace, and below this were the gardens. They ran for acres, cut into sections by wide walkways. Climbing roses blanketed trellises in scarlet and pink, and fountain after fountain played in the main walkway, lending a cool sparkle to the sun's brilliance.
At the base of the terrace, Lady Breckenridge waited, splendid in summer yellow, a wide hat over her dark curls. An older woman with a basket over her arm snipped roses from a nearby trellis. She had the same pointed features and dark blue eyes as Lady Breckenridge.
